


Disintegration

by strawberriesandtophats



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, horny on main
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 11:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats
Summary: The smile on Richelieu’s face was a small, wicked thing. It made no promises and told no lies. And when Treville pressed Richelieu’s fingers too hard and kissed the Cardinal’s ring with a bow to his head, his Musketeers grew still in their confusion.
Relationships: Armand Jean du Plessis de Richelieu/de Tréville (Trois Mousquetaires)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 101





	Disintegration

The smile on Richelieu’s face was a small, wicked thing. It made no promises and told no lies. And when Treville pressed Richelieu’s fingers too hard and kissed the Cardinal’s ring with a bow to his head, his Musketeers grew still in their confusion.

Treville straightened his back, meeting Richelieu’s gleaming eyes. The red silk slid over stone, his boots thudding on the ground when Louis made a gesture for them all to follow. His men grumbled, thinking that being around Richelieu himself was punishment enough for their earlier misadventures, making faces at the Cardinal’s back.

They could accept the heated arguments, Treville’s teeth bared and itching for a fight. They could accept Richelieu’s cold remarks, the smooth voice of someone totally in control.

White and Black.

No grey at all.

That was easy.

Simple.

And a lie to let themselves sleep at night.

When the Cardinal’s hand brushed against the back of Treville’s neck, making some gesture to illustrate whatever he was saying, they expected the Captain to flinch.

To bark out some remark, an order, anything at all.

To start an argument, at least.

But the smile on Treville’s face was all teeth. There was no whisper of glory in it, no speech about honor and justice and loyalty.

It was the sort of smile you might flash just before pinning another person up against the wall, a hand on their throat and another with a knife against their family jewels. The sort of smile that lead to disasters and finger-shaped bruises on your hips.

“Oh no,” Aramis muttered, horror in his voice. His eyes flickered towards the Cardinal, who licked his lips and rubbed his fingertips together as if handling an invisible rosary.

The smile on Treville’s face became even worse, somehow. His eyes were dark like the bottom of a icy river, his footsteps light and reckless on the floor.

Better to put the Captain up on a pedestal, high above the dirty things that had to be done in the service of France. Easier than seeing the shades of grey woven through his being, to notice the black threads. Simpler to close their eyes to that smile on your father-figure’s face.

“We’ll be stuck with the Cardinal for hours,” D’Artagnan whispered, not looking at Treville at all. “I fell into one pond while on a mission, that can’t be so bad that we all have to-“

Richelieu’s eyes lingered on The Musketeers for the briefest of moments as if he considered them to be exhausting toddlers playing dress-up.

“Captain,” Richelieu said with a charming tilt of the head, his voice smooth and rich. “Might I steal you away, later on?”

The king looked on, approving. As if he did not see this collaboration as the slow blackening of a good man’s soul. As if Treville was already damned.

“There is much to discuss,” Treville agreed. The gruff nod did nothing to hide the gleam in his eyes. “All right, then.”

“Excellent,” Louis said, clapping his hands together. The Musketeers bowed a little when his eyes roam over them only to pull away at the sound of courtiers shuffling around.

They continued walking, the hallway stretching on and on.


End file.
